


The Blood of the True and the False

by NexusAstral



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Lexa Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-26
Packaged: 2019-01-10 00:04:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12287031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NexusAstral/pseuds/NexusAstral
Summary: It's this sick feeling, truly nasty. One that someone can't just overlook. You, watching the blackness of your own blood pooling around you and your skai prisa- your sky princess sobbing and making promises that she couldn't ever possibly keep over your body. That, that is a truly disgusting feeling. Or maybe that's just the bullet lodged in Leska's gut talking. But, the one thing- no, two things- she did know were the following:1. She was going to die from this wound, and the conclave would predict the next heda.2. Klark kom Skaikru was safe. Titus had promised, and usually he keeps those.Or Lexa lives.Major WIP





	1. The Race of Time Begins (Pt. 1)

It's this sick feeling, truly nasty. One that someone can't just overlook. You, watching the blackness of your own blood pooling around you and your skai prisa- your sky princess sobbing and making promises that she couldn't ever possibly keep over your body. That, that is a truly disgusting feeling. Or maybe that's just the bullet lodged in Leksa's gut talking. But, the one thing- no, two things- she did know were the following:  
1\. She was going to die from this wound, and the conclave would predict the next heda.  
2\. Klark kom Skaikru was safe. Titus had promised, and usually he keeps those.  
The edges of her vision were fading, loss of blood starting to take effect. She let off a small sigh, knowing that in the end, her fight would never end with the next commander. She stopped fighting, letting her head fall back onto Wanheda's pillows and bed. Leska was tired. Of fighting, of politics, and very tired of Titus. If she did somehow live through this, her dreams would be about pushing him off the very top of her tower at least for a month. 

'Goodbye Klark, I will love you.' She tried to say before the darkness took over, but she settled on thinking it. And then the darkness did what it does best and took over her consciousness. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Titus couldn't believe what he had done, and what he was about to do. He stifled a sigh, knowing that Leksa kom trikru was one of the better hedas he will have the honor to serve, well, up until the skaikru prisa decided to come along. He pulled the small box containing medical supplies from his coat, drawing out a scalpel. He put the box down on the nightstand, taking a breath and walking towards his heda. He stood over his heda now, mumbling to himself. Taking his hand around her neck, he felt a small pulsing in her neck. 'The clans will destroy what I already haven't.' He decided, lining the scalpel up with her neck. 

Pushing through the skin with expertise, he started to extract the flame. When this was done, he could see Klark kom Skaikru looking at the "corpse" of her Heda with betrayal. He sighed, picking up the body of his previous student, which was barely clinging to life. 

"I'm taking her to the sacred tombs, do not disturb me." Titus growled towards Wanheda. "You’re the real reason she's dead." He spat out. He then high tailed it away, heading to the tunnels in a half-sprint half-walk. 

And then, the race to save his heda was on. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

  
Clarke stumbled out of the room, her room, the room where Titus had ambushed her and ended up killing Lexa. When she was sure no one was watching, she leaned against the wall, gasping and sobbing in agony. Five minutes passed, and she was still in the same position. Ten minutes passed, and nothing had changed. It took her twenty minutes. Twenty minutes to just compose herself. She pushed herself away from the wall, closing her eyes and counting to thirty. She let a small sigh escape her lips. 

 

She stumbled blindly through the halls, occasionally bumping into walls. She barely made it outside without breaking something, whether it be a bone or a table. She looked up, the blinding sun no longer in the sky. She watched the clouds moving, with no intent to move ever again. 

She didn't see the cautious footsteps of a certain Blake approaching her still form. She didn't hear the footsteps of the Blake girl creeping closer. 

"Clarke?" Octavia said carefully, not wanting to startle the shaken girl. Clarke barely turned in her directing, but sighed her acknowledgement. "What's wrong?" Octavia asked her sister-figure. 

Clarke bit back a remark, looking over at Octavia fully now. "Lexa's.." She choked on her words. "..she's dead." It was a small, hushed whisper that announced the news. The news sent the brunette over to the blonde's side to try and support her. 

"Oh, Clarke." She mumbled softly, a sigh escaping her. It made her think of Lincoln. Whom was currently imprisoned by Pike. It made her enraged. "The Arkers never should have come down." At that, Clarke's attention was peaked. "Oh, yeah?" She whispered. 

"Yeah." Octavia said, "If they didn't, we wouldn't be at a half war with the coalition, and Lincoln wouldn't be in a lockup cell, and Lexa wouldn't be dead, probably." She whispered. 

"So? What are you going to do about it?" Was the response Octavia got. It threw her off guard, but she managed this: "No Clarke, what are you going to do about it?"

The question clung to the air, and Clarke watched Octavia with tear-filled eyes.

"Is there something I can do?" She whispered.

 

__________________________________

Skai Prisa - Sky Princess  
Wanheda - Commander of Death  
Heda - Commander


	2. The Race of Time Begins (Pt. 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Titus stabilizes Lexa. Octavia and Clarke are very emotional. And a new POV is thrown in for a new character.

Titus was carrying the 'corpse' of Leksa. The only corpse of a commander with a pulse. He had already announced her death, her false death. Thinking of it now, he probably should have told the skai girl. He shook off the thought and continued in the tunnels that were used in only the direst cases. 

This was one of the few things that he will decide to go against his code as fleimkepa with. That was his conclusion anyway of this anyway. The man was sure he was going against some sort of rule, some sort of law. Yet here he was, going through this without thinking. 

Finally, he reached a dim room, several candles as the main source of light. There was the thing he knew he would need, but had hoped to never have too. Old world medical supplies. The room had a metal table with a tablecloth over it, a few chairs, a cabinet containing food and cloth, and several buckets of water. 

Leska was placed on the table, pulse still weak and threatening Titus with nonexistence. He hauled a bucket of water over, then returned over to the cabinet for cloth. He pressed the cloth against her wound, adding pressure and trying to clean away blood. 

Slowly, over what felt like hours, the bleeding slowed. The pulse of the wounded trikru girl was still weak, but she wouldn't bleed to death in seconds. Titus sighed in relief and dipped the cloth into the bucket of water, using it to clean around the wounded area on the girl's body. 

He inspected the area briefly, realizing it would need stitching. Grunting with the realization, he turned to get a candle, a needle, and some string. While it wasn't practiced often by healers, they did learn to stitch wounds in the direst cases. 

Once again hovering over the young Leksa's body, he threaded the needle and lit the candle. It took him a moment of hopeless wondering to try and attempt anything. He ended up burning the wound closed, then putting the thread and needle back. 

Titus now sighed, wishing he had been seken to a healer along with the fleimkepa before him. He tensed as he heard a voice behind him. One he recognized. 

"Having fun with our precious nat-blita, Titus?" 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Octavia bit back a humorless laugh at Clarke's words. "Clarke, you are the leader of the 100..." she paused, realizing with dread and then correcting herself, "the 49, you are Wanheda, commander of death. You have influence, to say the least, on the council of skaikru. You could... Hell, you could start your own clan and people would support you." She offered, a dull, emotionally tired smile with the words. 

Clarke thought through her response. A small, yet familiar, tug that she recognized as hope deciding to make an appearance. "Would you? Giving up your possible position in trikru or skaikru for the chance to join me?" 

Octavia froze, biting her lip. "Maybe one-day Clarke, but not today, or this month." She said carefully, not fully forgiven her about the Tondisi bombing. She sighed softly as Clarke's frame visably fell. "It's not a never, though." She added after a minute. 

"Okay." Clarke responded numbly, nodding her head. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and her throat hoarse from her agonized noises. 

"I guess we're not getting to the blockade, huh?" Octavia tried to joke, mind suddenly flickering over to the now probably angry Indra. Clarke still let a small chuckle out, shaking her head 'no' in response. She seemed slightly lost, dull and emotionally wasted to say the least. 

"Raven's still in Arkadia, right?" Clarke whispered with her hoarse throat, tears slowly stopping their uncontrolled descent. 

"Yes. She is, as far as I know." Octavia nods after a second, a realization coming over her and holding hands with a guilt. "We just left her. In Arkadia, with the most dangerous people on earth probably." She growls at the though. 

"We're broken." Clarke pauses, then continues with a spark of hope. "But we can be fixed?" Octavia resists the urge to roll her eyes at the words. "We're about... Maybe seventy-five percent broken, but not a hundred. We're fixable." 

'She better be able to fix us.' Octavia thinks as she leans in to hug Clarke Griffin lightly. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Cautiously, hazel eyes watched the movement of the fleimkepa as he sprinted into the room. He was carrying someone. On closer inspection, the hazel-eyed gona realized that it was none other than Leksa, the girl who is the heda of the twelve clans. Well, that was her title when this warrior left. 

Making no move to make themself know, the warrior watched from the background with curiosity. Slowly the situation died down. Then, the warrior decided was the time to make herself known to Titus. 

"Having fun with our precious nat-blita, Titus?" The warrior spat out, making their distaste for the man know, but worry and question present in their voice. They could hardly control their smirk as he froze up briefly, the air becoming very tense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, who can guess who our ending character is? I tried to keep this a well-kept secret, and the only hints are: Hazel-eyed and a grounder warrior.
> 
> Feel free to ask me questions in the comments!
> 
> *Will try and make these longer.


	3. Chapter 3

This work has been cancelled, so I can rewrite it later. I'm neglecting it.

When it is rewritten, I will make every chapter at least 1k words long hopefully.

I'm keeping this up to update when the next trial of it will be published.


End file.
